


Arcade Legends

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Adventures in Prumanada [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arcades, Fluff, M/M, kinda sad fluff but not angst, lovino identifies with second-best children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three countries spend the day at the arcade and run across a boy who is eerily familiar</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arcade Legends

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a crappy 3 am oneshot, you have been warned. Also I know nothing about the arcade I named, I just found it on google.

While they were often busy, countries typically found themselves with quite a lot of freetime. So it was no surprise that many of them picked up habits and hobbies, like Germany training his dogs, and Estonia running a blog, and Romania drinking blood, and… whoops that’s probably classified. Whatever. You get the gist. 

So no one batted an eyelash at Prussia, Romano, and Canada’s monthly date at Playdium, one of the largest arcade’s in Canada. They were well known to the staff, to the point that they had to be let in on the ‘nation’ secret, or they’d eventually figure out something was up. And after so many years of practice, the trio was practically a legend at the place.

Still, they never failed to have fun, nor did they tire of the reactions they got when they challenged someone who had just been looking at their pictures that had been put up on a wall of fame. 

Every day they went went something like this: the three would meet up, split the tokens among themselves, and then spend precisely three hours trying to win as much as possible. Whoever won the most tickets got to decide how to spend the pooled total. They generally followed that up with a private bumper car match, and then they’d leave to find ice cream. This they did on the eighteenth of every month, no exceptions. 

Today was, naturally, not an exception. Matthew had been having particular luck on the token games, while Lovino knew that today was his day for skeeball. Gilbert, on the other hand, had been having no luck at all. As one, the timers on their phones buzzed, alerting them that the three hours were up and they had to return to the air hockey tables-their meeting place. 

Gilbert was the first to throw down his tickets, “446. Gott, today sucked.”

Matthew smirked, always gaining confidence in the presence of his best friends and lovers, “1893.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, shoving his pile towards the blond, “Ja, ja. Just vait ‘til next time. I’ll crush you both. Der Sieg wird Preußens sein.”

“Sure, Gil. So, Lovino? You gonna pay up?” Matthew turned, but paused when he saw the brunette’s expression. The usually frowning man was chuckling darkly, his grin reminiscent of the one he often wore when the Italian Mafia had been at its peak.

“...Lovino?”

With one swift movement, he dropped another enormous pile of tickets, “2672.”

Matthew’s jaw dropped.

“Which brings our total up to… 5011. I’ll enjoy spending this.”

The other two followed behind him in shocked silence as he strolled into the gift store. You could things that were actually worth some shit for 5000 tickets. He paused in the middle, looking around, but instead of a prize, his gaze fell on another family.

“Brooks,” the mother was saying, in that pleading voice parents like to use when they’re passive-aggressively forcing their kids to do something. The boy in question looked to be about twelve, with neatly combed black hair, and a frown on his face. The reason for the frown became evident when the mother continued, “Gage has his heart set on that giant, plush dolphin, and you know he couldn’t win that many tickets on his own. Why don’t you give him yours? I mean, you do want to be the best big brother, right?”

Lovino watched, caught in the moment just as much as the boy, as Brooks glanced over his shoulder wistfully at the plasma globe he had clearly been just about to ask if he could get. Turning back to his mother’s expectant look, he ignored it in favor of his brother’s hopeful one. The little kid clinging to his mother’s arm was probably about seven-  _ old enough to win his own tickets _ \- the bitter thought caught Lovino by surprise. Brooks looked back once more before sighing and handing over his 4000 some. Lovino was surprised at how much it angered him to see the dates: the kid had been saving up for… over a year?! 

It took all his willpower to restrain his habit of cussing her out in the middle of the store. He turned back to his companions, who had been paying attention but hadn’t realized  _ just _ how much the encounter had struck the Italian. All of them knew what it was like to come second to a younger brother, but that… that had been the  _ exact _ thing Lovino had done, time and again, when it came to Feliciano.

“So, meine kleiner Italienischer Mann? Vat’ll it be?”

Lovino held up a hand, gesturing for the others to follow him into the corner opposite the family. As soon as they out of earshot, he leaned forward and whispered, “I’m gonna buy it for him.”

Gilbert blinked. Then he shrugged. It made sense. Matthew just quirked a smile, watching fondly as Lovino pulled away from them. Brooks hadn’t gone up to the counter with his mother and brother, still hovering near the toy he had wanted so badly.

The reddish-brown haired man stood for a moment, pretending to browse, before speaking quietly, but loud enough for the boy to hear, “What colour?”

Brooks looked up, “What?”

Lovino stared down at him amusedly out of the corner of his eye, “What colour were you going to get?”

“I-I… It doesn’t matter…”

That made him turn, looking directly into the kid’s eyes, “Yes, you do. What colour?” 

“Umm… the teal one…”

“Good choice,” Lovino affirmed, sliding one off the shelf. He approached one of the employees he knew well, making the exchange quickly, long before the other worker got back with the little boy’s stuffed toy. Turning around, he walked back to the boy, who had been watching him curiously and a bit nervously. 

Lovino knelt down to the kid’s level as he handed him the bag, “Take it. And-hey, every time you look at it? Remember that you matter. You are worth just as fucking much as he is. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. Trust me. I’ve been exactly where you are now. And now I have twice as much as my brother. You matter.”

Standing back up, he led Brooks back over to his mother, “You should be proud of your son, signora. It is not often you find someone who works hard to achieve their dreams, and it is even rarer to find someone who is willing to give up all those accomplishments out of love for their brother. I was so moved by overhearing this boy’s sacrifice, I simply had to get him the prize he wanted. I hope both of your children can enjoy what they won. Have a nice day.”

Spinning on his heel before his resolve snapped (he was going to ignore his slip-up with the kid, earlier), Lovino marched back over to his friends. Immediately they put their arms around his shoulders, leading him out the door.

“As loath as I am to remind myself in any way of my own brother, that was very heroic of you, Lovino,” Matthew said quietly, leaning his head partially against and partially on top of the smaller male’s. Gilbert grinned, “I’m surprised you held it together so vell. Normally, you fly off the handle.”

“Yeah, well…” Lovino replied tiredly, still lost in memories. Matthew looked over at Gilbert, “You guys wanna skip bumper cars for today? I think now would be a good time for ice cream.”

“You’re alvays up for ice cream, meine kleine Eisbär.”

“WE’RE BOTH BIGGER THAN YOU, POTATO BASTARD NUMBER II!”

“Looks like somebody’s back to normal…” Gilbert cooed, swooping in to kiss him on the nose before slipping out of the embrace and racing to the protection of the nearby ice cream parlor.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I like this verse. I think I might write more. But the timeline is gonna be all over the place if I do, sorry.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Der Sieg wird Preußens sein. = Victory will be Prussia's  
> meine kleiner Italienischer Mann = my little Italien (man)  
> meine kleine Eisbär = my little polar bear


End file.
